Secrets
by shadowblade-tara
Summary: Prowl has decided to let Jazz in on his darkest secret, but can Jazz handle knowing just who Prowl really was? Rated for mentions of violence, to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Transformers © Hasbro. Not mine, although I do wish.

I talked myself through this as I took the trash down today. Please don't judge me.

**Secrets**

"Heya, Prowler." Jazz poked his head into Prowl's office, grinning as the tactical officer gave him a dry look. Jazz ignored the datapads that still covered Prowl's desk in favor of sitting in a chair across from his friend. "I got a question fer ya."

Prowl sighed and leaned back, a small smile quirking his lipplates. "Ask away, Jazz." he said grandly. "You aren't going to go anywhere until I let you, anyway."

Jazz smirked. "Dang straight. Well, it's kinda a strange question, so bear with me, 'kay?" Prowl nodded. Jazz took a deep breath, then continued. "I was wonderin' if ya'd tell me where ya been goin' recently." Prowl didn't respond, his small smile never fading, and Jazz decided to forge ahead. "I mean, ya usually never leave the base, an' now ya are, and that's fine an' all, but Primus, Prowler, somethin' strange is goin' on, an' I don' want ya caught in it." His mouth snapped shut as he suddenly realized he was babbling enough to make Bluestreak proud. Apparently the nervous habit was contagious. He watched hesitantly as Prowl set aside his datapad and fixed Jazz with an odd stare.

"Optimus has me running special missions for him." he said finally.

Jazz's optics narrowed, although Prowl couldn't really see it through the visor. "That's a good non-answer." he pointed out.

Prowl shook his head, his smile fading. "That's all I can tell you, Jazz. My orders were very clear, but I can assure you, I'm in no danger."

Jazz heaved a sigh of relief. "Good. Cuz with all those 'Cons just droppin' dead – well, I don' like it. Not at all." He shook his head. "Reminds me too much of when Barricade was runnin' around, 'cept this time it's 'Cons droppin' instead of us. It don't make sense, ya know?"

"I can understand that." Prowl said calmly. "I remember the stories I heard about Barricade. That was before I joined the Autobots, though."

"Yeah. I was supposed ta be the one ta catch the slagger." Jazz said ruefully. "Never did though. Eh, what do I know? I'm gettin' paranoid. Catch ya later, Prowler. Just promise me ya'll be careful."

Prowl nodded, his serious gaze never leaving Jazz's face. "I will. Promise."

Jazz smiled at him. "Thanks." With that he left Prowl's office, his smile fading as soon as he was out of Prowl's line of sight. Something wasn't right. Prowl had gone tense the moment Jazz had mentioned Barricade, the near-mythical Decepticon assassin. Jazz had assumed Barricade had died, since his murderous spree had stopped over a century ago.

He froze.

When Red Alert came to the Autobot base, half out of his mind from what the Decepticons had done to him.

When Prowl had joined the ranks.

He shook his head. No. Prowl probably hadn't encountered the assassin. He wasn't a fighter. If he had, he would have been dead.

/----/

The next day found Jazz in the rec room, casually sipping at his energon as he watched the Twins have their usual mock-fights that usually became real ones. Jazz actually felt sorry for whoever had to break that one up (he was off-duty – not him). He was not expecting Bluestreak to come racing up to him, practically bouncing on his pedes as he babbled on to Jazz. "Hey, have you seen Prowl today? I went up to his office but he's not there and I really really want to show him something it's so cool how it's worked out and –"

"Breathe, Blue." Jazz laughed. "Naw, I ain't seen Prowl since yesterday. I imagine he's with Prime though. Whaddya want to show him?" It wasn't every day Blue got this excited. Blue frowned a moment before perking right back up again.

"I wanted to show him my new test scores I just got done at the range and Ironhide gave me a perfect score for the sniper's range!" Blue was grinning like a fool, and Jazz couldn't exactly blame him.

"A perfect score? That ain't bad." he praised the younger mech. "But what's Prowler gotta do with it?"

Blue hesitated. "Prowl taught me how to shoot." he said. "Didn't you know that?"

Jazz felt his vents hitch. "Prowl taught ya?" he demanded. "But Prowl never leaves the base – what does he need with warrior trainin'?"

Blue shrugged. "I never asked and he never told, but he's good, you know? He's better than I am on the sniper post and I thought I was pretty good, if I do say so myself – should I say that? I don't want to sound vain or anything –"

Jazz tuned Blue out. Prowl was a sniper? He was _good_ at being a sniper? That wasn't something he was aware of, to be sure. With a distracted good-bye to Blue, Jazz stood up and left the rec room, abandoning his energon at the table. He needed to find Prowl – or someone who knew more about the mech than he did.

Which was going to be impossible, he realized suddenly. He had gone out of his way to learn everything he could about Prowl since the tactician had joined the Autobots. He really couldn't help it – Prowl was attractive, smart, and had a wicked sense of humor when he actually let someone else see it. Jazz had been smitten from day one.

So how had he missed Prowl's skills? Surely he had seen Prowl practicing at the range; after all, Bluestreak hadn't been with them that long, and Prowl hadn't been a warrior that long, either. So Jazz had to have seen him practicing!

Except that he hadn't. Jazz hadn't seen any of it. Prowl had never gone out into the training rooms or the shooting range, and yet he always had the confidence that was usually only seen on a mech like Ironhide. Someone with scars to prove their worth. The discrepancies were making Jazz's head spin. Something wasn't right, and it was driving Jazz crazy!

He found Prowl walking out of Prime's office, just like he had suspected. Prowl glanced up from his datapad and smiled at him, opening his mouth to greet him like usual, but Jazz cut him off.

"Ya taught Blue to shoot?" he demanded.

Prowl blinked in surprise. "Hello to you, too. Yes, I am having a wonderful day. How about you?"

Judging from the smirk of amusement on Prowl's face, Jazz's jaw was somewhere on the floor. Since when was Prowl sarcastic? Even with Jazz, who Prowl was always more natural around than anyone else, Prowl was never sarcastic. That, added to the list of everything else that was going strange in his world (worrying about Prowl constantly since he started these missions, Blue's startling revelation, this odd change in Prowl's character) made Jazz suffer from his first ever processor lock.

Prowl caught him before he could hit the ground. He shook his head in exasperation. "Guess I shouldn't have opened my mouth, huh?" he murmured. "Come on, let's get you to Ratchet." He hoisted Jazz up onto his shoulder and walked the other way down the hall.

/---/

AN: Supposed to be a one-shot, but you saw how far that went. Oh, well. Read and review, and I'll try to get the next chappie up tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: (stares at WolvesFire77) That has to be the _longest_ review I have ever gotten – not to mention one of the best. (smiles) Thanks for the wonderful, rambling support. I absolutely love it.

**pt 2**

Jazz found himself coming around in Ratchet's med bay. At least, he assumed it was Ratchet's med bay. He could hear Prowl's voice somewhere above him, as well as Prime's, which was a little strange. Without onlining his optics, he tuned in. This may be the opportunity he needed.

"Are you going to tell him?" Optimus was asking.

Jazz could almost sense Prowl's shrug. "I have to now." he murmured. "He's getting too close to the truth. Besides, I'd rather he hear it from me as opposed to piecing it together on his own. He deserves that much from me." Prowl uttered a hollow laugh. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."

"I told you Jazz had his sights set on you." Ratchet said gruffly. Jazz almost flinched when he heard that. He had thought he was being a bit more discreet, but then again, Ratchet knew him a lot better than he liked. Figured the Hatchet would be the first to pick up on it, no matter how subtle he was being. "You were the one who did nothing to discourage him."

"Forgive me if I happen to like Jazz." There is was again, that slightly sarcastic tone that –

Wait. Did Prowl just say he _liked_ Jazz?

He was so stuck on that point he almost missed what was said next.

"I don't think Jazz will have a problem with your past, Prowl." Optimus said gravely.

"Barricade was a killer." Prowl said bluntly.

"Not just a killer." Huh. That was Red Alert – what was the paranoid slagger doing in the med bay? His train of thought was derailed as Red Alert continued. "I don't remember much, but I remember enough. You were not just a killer, Prowl. You were my friend."

Ratchet grumbled under his breath. "He's the only reason you're alive and well and not some blabbering idiot in the 'Con's dungeon." he growled. "All right, Prowl – he should be waking up at any moment. We'll leave you two alone to discuss things. Just don't lock him up again."

"I never meant to lock him up the first time!" Prowl protested. "That fragging hurts! I would know!"

Optimus chuckled. "Red Alert – I have some finer points of your last report I would like to go over with you. Ratchet – go find Wheeljack. It's been silent in the labs for the past five hours. I'm worried."

"Slagger better not have blown something up without me." Ratchet growled. Jazz could hear footsteps as three of the four left. Only Prowl stayed behind. Jazz felt the berth shift as Prowl sat down beside him.

"I know you're awake. You can stop pretending now."

Reluctantly, Jazz turned on his optics and sat up, shifting to put a bit more distance between himself and Prowl. He didn't miss the small flash of hurt before Prowl's face completely shut down, leaving Jazz wondering just what was going through his friend's mind. "Hey." he said quietly, awkwardly. Things weren't supposed to be awkward between them.

Prowl, par usual, didn't beat around the bush. "How much did you overhear?"

"Enough." Jazz looked away from him. "Are ya really Barricade?"

"The one and only." Prowl offered a crooked grin that quickly faded. "This wasn't how I wanted you to find out." he muttered, more to himself than to Jazz. "I wasn't going to tell you at all, but I figured that wasn't fair to you. Besides, the way things are going, you were bound to find out anyway."

Jazz risked a glance at him. "Why're ya here, Barricade?" he snapped.

Prowl flinched back. "Don't say it like that. You make it sound like I have some nefarious purpose for my existence." He almost sounded like a normal 'bot, instead of the logic-run tactician he made everyone think he was, and Jazz had to wonder just how _this much_ information had slipped past him. "I'm here, on this base, because I no longer want to be a Decepticon. I even changed my designation, since it would draw too much attention to my past."

A slight smirk twisted Jazz's faceplates. "Good thing, too. I woulda killed ya on sight, defect or not."

Prowl smirked in return. "I know that. You and about a thousand others who have friends I've killed." Prowl's smirk faded and he looked away, as if ashamed. "I might have killed a few of your friends. In all honesty, I lost track."

For a moment, there was silence. Jazz knew he had to say something; he could feel Prowl shifting away from him, as if bracing himself for Jazz's rage or pain. Jazz had every right to feel that way, he realized dimly. There were good reasons why Optimus had chosen him to hunt down Barricade – the destruction of Jazz's team being one of them. However, that had been Barricade, and Jazz was having a hard time equating the ruthless assassin with his friend-cum-love-interest.

"Ya taught Bluestreak to shoot?" he asked, buying some time to get his thoughts straight in his processor. Prowl nodded.

"It seemed a fitting use of my skills, and he's an exceptional study." A small smile formed on Prowl's faceplates, gone almost before Jazz had the chance to see it. "Ironhide told me he got a perfect score on his last test. I haven't had the chance yet to tell him how proud I am."

Jazz chuckled dryly. "Ta think – that's what started me figurin' this out."

"You would have figured it out eventually. You're smart, Jazz. I couldn't have hid this forever." Prowl shook his helm. "I'm not sure if I would have wanted to. There's only so long a person can harbor a secret like this."

Jazz nodded absently. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know, but he had to ask. "So – whaddya been doin' fer Prime?"

Prowl's answer was blunt. "Did you think the 'Cons were the only ones who need assassins?"

Jazz felt his processor sputter to a stop. The world was still spinning, and he was about to get thrown off. If something didn't change, he was going to have another processor lock, and Prowl was right – that fragging _hurt. _"Wha?"

Before Prowl could continue, Bluestreak popped in with a bright smile. "Hey Prowl did Ironhide tell you I got a perfect score on my test!" He was practically bouncing on his pedes again.

Prowl looked over his shoulder at Bluestreak, and suddenly the dark danger that had been lurking just underneath Prowl's optics was gone, replaced by the tolerant patience that seemed to characterize Prowl. "That's great, Bluestreak. I truly am proud of you." he said warmly.

That shift was all it took. Jazz jumped to his feet and took off down the halls, finding the fastest exit he knew of from the Ark. He needed to get _out,_ to be alone, to wrap his processor around the spinning mess that had become his world.

Prowl was _Barricade._ Barricade, the assassin who had managed to kill everyone on his hunting team and yet leave him the only survivor. And now he was killing again, except this time he was killing 'Cons. Jazz's instincts hadn't been wrong, but Prowl had been right – he'd been in no danger.

It was too much. He could only run.

In the med bay, Prowl gave Jazz a few minutes head start before standing up. He gently touched Bluestreak's helm. "Will you please tell Optimus that Jazz and I have left the Ark for a chat?"

Bluestreak nodded. "I don't think that's a chat."

Prowl smiled slightly. "Okay, but I wouldn't recommend telling Prime I'm about to go beat some understanding into his saboteur's helm." With that, he walked out of the med bay.

Bluestreak shook his head. "I thought Jazz already knew about Prowl – I mean, if I can figure it out, I know Jazz can." he muttered.

/----/

AN: Dun dun dun! Be honest – how many of you actually foresaw _Bluestreak_ being the one to simply figure it out and never say a word?


	3. Chapter 3

AN: You guys are epic! In response to all your love, here's chapter three! Hopefully this isn't too strange, since I'm kinda doped up on Benadryl right now. I hate sinus headaches.

**pt 3**

In all honesty, Prowl had been expecting resistance. He had even expected Jazz to hate him. After all, Barricade had never been anything more than a killer, no matter what Red Alert said. However, he had been hoping to at least be able to explain himself before Jazz took off like this. Not explain away his past deeds – Barricade was a killer, was good at it, and being a good hunter is what made Prowl an excellent tactician – but rather his reasons for defecting.

Jazz may see things differently if he knew why Prowl left the Decepticons. Or he may not. Either way, at least then he'd have all the information he needed to make an informed decision. That's all Prowl really wanted to do.

He'd been following Jazz's trail for a few hours before he finally caught up with the saboteur – just in time to see Dirge, followed by Thrust and Ramjet, descend upon him in a frenzy.

Great. He just found the outer edge of the Decepticon scouting ground. Prowl skid to a halt and transformed, quickly taking stock of the terrain.

They were near a dried-up river gully, the same one where Jazz liked to go when he needed to be alone. Prowl had followed him out here several times, mostly on those occasions where Jazz was in such an emotional state that Prowl feared the 'Cons would be able to ambush him. Like they just did.

Prowl took up position lying flat on his stomach, letting his doorwings gather the information necessary for his targeting system to pick up the Seekers. Jazz was pinned down in the ravine. All Prowl had to do was pick off one of the Seekers, and Jazz could get out. Not to mention that taking down just one Seeker would eventually take down all of them. That was just a bonus.

He took careful aim.

Dirge fell from the sky with a smoking hole in his chassis, his optics dark even before he hit the ground. Thrust and Ramjet screamed in agony as their trinemate died. Jazz flinched from the sound; Prowl hardly reacted. It didn't take long for Thrust and Ramjet to take off, carrying Dirge's body between them. Jazz fell to the ground, shock written across his face. Prowl stayed where he was.

"Did ya do that?" Jazz whispered.

Prowl grimaced and slid down the gully wall to sit beside Jazz. "I do try to protect my friends. I don't have very many of them."

"Gee, I wonder why?" Jazz snipped. Suddenly, he flinched. "Sorry, man. Ya don't deserve that."

"I probably do." Prowl said calmly. He glanced at Jazz. "Will you give me the chance to explain?"

"Explain what? Ya killed them."

"I know." Prowl looked away. Jazz wasn't meeting his gaze anyway. "Can I tell you a story?"

"Ya gonna tell me even if I say no?"

"Probably. But I'd rather you listen to me."

Jazz sighed and slumped backwards, relaxing into the side of the gulley. "Go ahead." he muttered. "I'll listen. Promise."

Prowl nodded and leaned back himself, not looking at Jazz. Instead he chose to stare at the darkening sky as he told his tale. "Red Alert was the only one I would consider a friend on the 'Con base." he said quietly. "We did not make our relationship with each other known for obvious reasons. One day I came back from a mission and realized I couldn't find Red. He wasn't in his quarters, at the security banks – anywhere. I began to worry, but I didn't say anything about it.

"Later Megatron pulled me aside and gave me another mission." Prowl sighed, shuttering his optics. "For the first time, he asked me to do something I couldn't. I told him I couldn't. And when I did, he threatened to do the same thing to me that he was doing to Red Alert. And I knew it was time to leave."

He fell silent. Jazz risked a glance at him. Prowl seemed tired, world-weary, something he had rarely seen on his friend. Then again, since Prowl was really Barricade, that meant Prowl had been alive for much longer than he had originally thought, and had done so much more.

When Prowl didn't seem inclined to pick up his tale, Jazz prompted him. "What did Megatron ask you to do?" he asked softly, not sure if he wanted the answer. After all, Barricade had killed his entire team. What on Cybertron could be worse than that kind of mass murder?

"Kill you."

Jazz froze. Okay, so maybe his processor was going to lock up again. "What?"

Prowl sighed again and met Jazz's optics for the first time during his tale. "During my time as a Decepticon, there was one Autobot that drew my attention. He was fast, agile, and slagging good at what he did. He was the only one who could run circles around me. I figured if Megatron didn't kill me first, this one would. And I didn't mind that." He smiled slightly. "There were less dignified ways to die, and I'd much rather this one Autobot be the one to kill me than Megatron.

"I knew things had changed when Megatron ordered me to kill you, and I couldn't do it. Between that and the damage done to Red Alert, I knew I had to get Red to Ratchet and warn Prime about the danger to you." Prowl shook his head. "I never intended to stay, but I did. Then Prime introduced me to you. I'll admit, I half-expected you to rip my spark out."

Jazz laughed hollowly. "I never recognized ya."

"I'm glad." Prowl glanced away once again. "It meant I got a chance, even if this does destroy it."

For a moment, Jazz couldn't breathe. "Ya think that this – that I'd – "

"You'd be well within your rights to push me away." Prowl said softly, once again studying his feet rather than looking at Jazz. "Actually, you'd be right to kill me now. I took enough away from you." Jazz froze, unable to speak, and Prowl took advantage of that by pressing his point further. "I wouldn't stop you, you know."

"Primus, Prowl, stop!"

Prowl jerked at Jazz's heated cry, helm snapping around to stare openly at Jazz. Before he could speak, however, Jazz kept going. "Do ya really think I wanna kill ya?" He reached out, grabbing Prowl's shoulders and pulling him close. "I should. I promised them I would, fer what ya did, but slag it all, I _can't._ I should, but I _don't,_ and I _can't,_ and frag it all if I c'n figure out why!"

He didn't realize he was hugging Prowl tightly as he spoke, his face buried in Prowl's neck. Prowl didn't move, checking his own desire to touch Jazz back. He simply stayed put, letting Jazz hold on freely for as long as he needed, afraid that any move on his part would push the visored mech further away.

From a distance, Optimus watched the scene with a small smile. Just out of audio range, but close enough to stop Jazz if the saboteur decided to do something rash, he decided now was a good time to go back to the Ark and give the two of them their privacy.

Even if they didn't understand a thing, Prime did.

/---/

An: I think there may be one more chapter to this, maybe two, depending on how the plot bunnies fair. But I reiterate – you guys are awesome! I love the reviews – keep them coming! (bright smile)


	4. Chapter 4

An: Since so many people have been asking about it, yes, I do plan on giving a bit more information about Red Alert. Actually, there's going to be a prequel story of sorts to this one detailing what happened to Red and why Barricade defected and became Prowl. Look for **Shattered Minds** under the Barricade / Red Alert characters, probably within the next month. I have an oral report to prepare for, otherwise it would be sooner. (makes a face)

**pt 4**

It was later, much much later, before Jazz finally got up the nerve to approach Prowl again. A few weeks had passed since his outburst in the gulley. He still remembered how reluctant he was to pull away from Prowl, how he had instinctively recoiled from the idea of even _hurting_ Prowl, much less killing him, yet he had immediately reached out and latched on.

Jazz wasn't stupid. He knew what he felt towards Prowl. Apparently those emotions had survived Prowl's disturbing revelations. At first, Jazz hadn't known what to make of that. Now he had given up trying to fight it. There really was no point.

Prowl, true to Prowl form, had completely avoided Jazz the entire two weeks. Prowl had always seemed to know Jazz far better than he should have (and small wonder – he'd been gathering information on Jazz for longer than he'd been Prowl!) and now he seemed to know instinctively that Jazz needed space and time to figure out his own messed-up thoughts. Now he was ready. Now he needed to know what Prowl thought of everything.

He pushed open the doors to the training room. According to the schedule, Prowl was in there with Ratchet. While not many suspected that Ratchet could fight, Jazz knew different. He had seen Ratchet take down an irate Ironhide, and he was the only one who could control the Twins. It made sense that Prowl would train with someone who already knew his secret.

Prowl spun around in the dark room, still on high alert, and gasped. "Jazz."

Ratchet stared hard at Jazz. "You got a reason for being here?" he demanded.

Jazz scowled at him. "I ain't gonna kill 'im, if that's what yer worried about." he bit out. "Just need ta talk ta him, that's all."

Ratchet studied him a moment longer before nodding sharply and walking out of the training room. The door slid shut and sealed behind him.

Prowl looked different in the dim light. His optics had reverted back to red, and there were sharp angles and hard lines to his armor as opposed to the smooth plates Jazz was used to seeing. He took a step closer. "So this is Barricade." he murmured. "'m guessin' Ratch made ya a camouflage so ya could still revert back if ya wanted."

"In case I was ever needed behind enemy lines." Prowl explained quietly, his voice pitched a bit lower and rougher than Jazz was familiar with, taking a small step backwards. "Megatron believes Barricade to be dead."

Jazz nodded. Prowl shifted uncomfortably, and Jazz could feel his energy shift as he made to activate his camouflage once again. "Don't." he said harshly. He reached out and grabbed Prowl's wrist. "Don' hide from me now, Prowler. I wanna see ya." He looked down at the hand he held, turning Prowl's wrist so it was palm-up and tracing his fingers across the armor. He could hear Prowl's tight swallow, and a small smirk flitted across his face. He worked his way up Prowl's palm to his wrist, gently tracing the new, sharp edges, memorizing the unfamiliar plates. Prowl trembled.

"W-what are you doing, Jazz?" he whispered.

"What I shoulda done a long time ago." Jazz responded quietly, never stopping his exploration. Without looking up at Prowl, he continued, "Ya know, it shoulda changed everythin'. Learnin' who ya were, it shoulda done somethin', ya know? I thought it would. But it didn't." Slowly, he raised his helm to meet Prowl's gaze. Crimson optics blazed with so many different emotions Jazz had a hard time following them all, everything from confusion to hope to the slow build of desire Jazz had been hoping to see. Slowly, Prowl reached up to touch Jazz's cheekplate, and it shocked him to feel Prowl's fingers shaking.

"Jazz . . ."

Jazz's visor was dim as he continued to simply stare at Prowl. "It shoulda changed somethin'." he murmured again. "I should hate ya, but I don'. Barricade, Prowler, whoever ya chose ta be – I love ya. I always have."

Prowl shuttered his optics. "I'm still a killer, Jazzy."

A slight smile quirked Jazz's lip plates at the nickname. "I don' care. I still love ya."

The tactician leaned down, his face a breath away from Jazz's. "Then – you wouldn't mind –"

Jazz stretched up the last inch and molded their lips together. Prowl sighed and relaxed into him, wrapping his arms around Jazz's shoulders and holding him close. Jazz slid his own arms around Prowl's waist, reaching behind him to gently stroke Prowl's doorwings. Prowl's resounding moan was absolutely perfect.

Prowl pulled back slightly, earning himself a small mewl of protest from Jazz. He reached up and gently cupped Jazz's chin in his claws.

"I love you, too." he murmured quietly. "From day one." Prowl smiled at him, and Jazz couldn't help but grin back.

It was still Prowl's smile.

**The End**

AN: Okay, ending it there before the fluff takes me away! (grins) Now, you guys can put your weapons down – it is a happy ending.

As I said earlier, there will be a prequel piece to this focusing on Barricade and Red Alert. I'm also considering writing a sequel, since this particular plot bunny has once again proved to be rabid. (sighs) If you'd like a sequel, drop me a line, and then look for **Honest Mistakes**__around the same time as **Shattered Minds.**

Until then, I remain faithfully yours,

Shadowblade-tara.


End file.
